


Testing A Hypothesis

by evelyn_pierce



Category: Marcus Moreno - Fandom, Pedro Pascal - Fandom, We Can Be Heroes (2020)
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29667309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelyn_pierce/pseuds/evelyn_pierce
Summary: When the leader of the superhero team, the Heroics, rear-ends you in the middle school parking lot, the last thing you expect is a date, let alone what comes after."There's only one way to test a hypothesis, right?" You hoped he would understand.
Relationships: Marcus Moreno/Reader
Kudos: 29





	Testing A Hypothesis

If you could go back in time to figure out exactly what choices you had made to lead to this moment, it would be hard to pinpoint exactly where you'd gone wrong. And yet here you were, dialing the number of one of the earth's greatest heroes, the leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno. 

There was nothing untoward about this call. The kids you nannied had insisted upon it, wanting to set up a sleepover with Missy Moreno. You stared down at the business card he'd given you and hesitated, thinking about the events that had transpired that day.

Earlier, you had been waiting in the carpool line for school to be released. The two kids you nannied, Annabelle and Anthony, were in sixth grade. You had been picking them up from school for years now and had gotten in the habit of getting there early and sitting in your car, taking a quiet moment to yourself before the chaos that consisted of taking care of twins ensued.

But you were jolted from your relaxation time by a bump on the back of your car. Had someone just rear-ended you? Here in the carpool line? Looking in your rearview mirror, you saw a large figure emerge from a black car behind you. Yep, he'd rear-ended you. Begrudgingly, you stepped out of your car as well. 

"Seriously?" you said. "How do you even manage this when the speed limit is zero?"

Instantly, you regretted the obvious annoyance in your voice. The man heading toward you was distressed and already apologizing profusely. If he hadn't been so handsome, you might have continued to berate him, but the kindness of the man's eyes and his unruly hair stopped you in your tracks.

"Did I dent it?" the man asked with worry. Looking at your bumper, there wasn't even a scratch. He hadn't been going that fast anyway.

"No, the car's fine. Don't worry about it," you said. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking worriedly into your face. "I didn't scare you or anything?"

"Really, it's fine. No harm done," you assured him. 

The man looked back at your bumper, analyzing it just to be sure. "Let me give you my number anyway, just in case. I'll cover any damage." He pulled a card from his back pocket and scrawled his number on the back before handing it to you.

Glancing at the card, you noticed the name. Marcus Moreno. Wasn't that...?

"You're that superhero aren't you? With the Heroics?"

Marcus laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's me. Apparently, I can wield swords but I can't drive a car."

"Don't worry, we all have our weaknesses," you said, partly trying to ease his concern and partly trying to tease him as well. "Your kid goes to school here?"

"Sixth grade. They grow up so fast. What about yours?"

"Not mine, actually. Just the nanny."

"I thought you looked a bit young," Marcus said with a lopsided grin. Was he flirting with you? You watched as he leaned against his own car, mirroring your movements. Oh yeah, definitely flirting.

"The job got me through college," you admitted, trying to hint that you might be younger but you were certainly still old enough for him. "But I liked it so much I stayed. Now I can't get away."

You did love your job, however challenging it was. Somewhere inside the school, the final bell rang, and moments later, kids came flooding out. Soon, you spotted Annabelle and Anthony and you waved, letting them know where you were. They headed over, chatting and laughing with another little girl. As they approached, she called out to Marcus, and you realized it was his daughter. What a coincidence.

"How was your day?" you asked the twins.

"Fine," they answered in unison, a typical answer for them. "Bye Missy," Annabelle said. "See you Monday."

Marcus turned toward you and stuck out his hand. 

"It was nice meeting you," he said. "I'll see you around. And call me if you need anything." Though he meant the car, you thought he'd probably left the invitation open on purpose. 

So here you were, standing in the kitchen, staring down at the phone number written on the back of Marcus Moreno's business card. Funny, a superhero with a business card who picks his kid up from school and rear-ends people in the parking lot. Not exactly what you'd expected.

At last, you dialed. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "Marcus Moreno speaking."

"Hey, it's Y/N. From the carpool line."

Marcus sounded genuinely happy to hear from you. "Something up with the car?"

"No, actually, the car is still undamaged." You could hear him snicker softly on the other end. You went on. "The kids wanted to have a sleepover and insisted I call you. I know it's sort of last minute, but it is Friday, so I thought it might be okay."

"I guess we could make it work. Give me a second." The other end went silent for a moment before his melodious voice returned. "Their place or mine?"

"Oh, well... I hadn't thought that far. I actually have weekends off, so I'm headed out at six tonight. But their parents will be home. I'm sure they won't mind."

"Sounds good, see you later." The line clicked and Marcus disconnected. Okay, then.

When six rolled around, you packed up your purse, placed dinner on the table, and then headed out the door, saying goodbye to the twins. Annabelle and Anthony's mother was already home and you were able to sneak out without too much commotion. As you closed the door behind you, Marcus's car pulled into the driveway, and both he and Missy stepped out.

"See you later, Dad," Missy said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running into the house. The two of you were now alone in the driveway.

"Hey again," Marcus said, looking you up and down with a smile.

"Thanks for avoiding my car this time," you said with a laugh. 

"Alright, alright, I get it. I'm a bad driver."

"Your words not mine."

It was Marcus's turn to laugh. He turned back toward his car but paused a moment as if he wanted to say something. "Got any weekend plans?"

You shrugged. Was he trying to gauge your availability? "Probably a glass of wine on the couch with this week's crime documentary."

"Would you like some company with that glass of wine?" Marcus asked. Your assumption had been right. When you hesitated, Marcus noticed your reluctance. "I'm sorry, that was a bit forward. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you replied, reassuringly. Fuck it, you thought, better to spend the weekend with someone than alone, again. "I think I'd like that."

\---

Marcus picked you up. He actually drove to your house and picked you up, like this was a date. You'd agreed to go to a bar nearby, and though it was close enough for you to walk, he'd insisted your house was on the way and that he would drive you. You weren't sure how true that was, but you weren't going to deny a free ride.

"Don't crash," you joked. Sure, maybe you were taking this whole bad driver thing a bit too far, but it eased the tension and you liked making Marcus laugh. When you arrived at the bar, he led you to a back table. You noticed he sat with his back to the wall and kept an eye on the front door, real superhero style.

"What would you like?" he asked. You ordered a vodka cran to his whiskey.

"I've never been here before," you mentioned as you waited for your drinks.

Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, most people here tend to be on the older side."

"Oh come one, you can't be that old," you teased. Could he be? Marcus looked a bit sheepish. Maybe he was.

"Not old but... I'll be 46 in the spring."

"Oh, shit," you said involuntarily. Marcus huffed as if to say 'thanks, like I didn't know.'

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just that- well, you're old enough to be my father."

"You wanna walk home?" he said jokingly. He was starting to ease more into the conversation and you thought he may actually enjoy all the teasing.

"It just means you're mature," you explained. 

"Mature is code for old."

"Mature means I can have a real conversation with you and not feel like I'm talking to a teenager." You paused. You wanted to say more but were unsure of what his reaction might be. Fuck it, he was flirting. You knew what he wanted, but more importantly, you knew what you wanted. "Mature also means better in bed."

At your words, Marcus leaned forward on his elbows, swirling the ice around in this glass. "And you know this? Or it's what you believe?"

You weren't expecting that reply. But you liked it. "Just a hypothesis."

Marcus leaned back again. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes told you he was processing what you'd just told him. So you moved on with the conversation, asking him about Missy, about life as a superhero, about life in general. He was open and honest, willing to talk about pretty much anything, though you purposely steered clear of talk about his dead wife. It was no secret that he'd been married before, but something about the mood of the conversation led you to believe he was trying to forget about her.

Though it felt like no time at all, you suddenly realized how tired you actually were. It had been a long day, taking care of kids and running errands. Glancing at your watch, you realized it was almost midnight. 

Marcus noticed your movement. "Want me to take you home?"

You hesitated. You were enjoying yourself, but you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the noise of the bar. So in the end, you relented.

As you pulled up to your apartment building, you didn't know what to say. Would he walk you to your door? Did you have the guts to ask? But Marcus killed the engine and gave you your answer. The two of you stood in silence outside your door as you fumbled for your keys. You wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Thanks so much for a wonderful evening. Thanks for flirting with me. No, no it wasn't right. 

You managed to get the door open. Now or never. "Do you-"

"I should let you get some sleep," Marcus said, beating you to it. Was this goodnight? But he didn't turn to leave.

For the third time that night, you threw caution to the wind. "Remember my hypothesis?"

Marcus smiled, though unsure where this was going. "Of course."

"There's only one way to test a hypothesis, right?" You hoped he would understand. 

And oh boy, did he understand. In two large steps, he was in front of you, taking your face in his hands. God, his hands. They were calloused but gentle and they tangled in your hair and left a searing heat on the back of your neck and--

Fuck. You hadn't even realized your eyes were closed until Marcus spoke. His lips were so close to yours, you could almost taste him, but he wasn't kissing you. Why wasn't he kissing you? "We should go inside," he whispered. His voice was suddenly raspier than it had been all evening, and though it was more of a suggestion than a request, you moved obediently, stepping backward as he moved forward, guiding you into the apartment. He slammed the door shut with his foot, hands still behind your head, and then finally, god damn it, finally, he kissed you.

His lips were decadently soft. At first, Marcus was gentle, easing you into an eternal kiss. But you wanted more. You wanted to be closer. Your fingers found the belt loops on the waistband of his jeans and you tugged his hips toward yours. He got the message loud and clear. 

His lips began to move against yours, hot and needy, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped for air. One hand left your hair to wrap around your waist, his fingers curling under the fabric of your shirt to lay flat against the skin of your back. They slid up the curve of your spine to the clasp of your bra and suddenly you felt the snap of elastic release against your skin. Had he just undone your bra one-handed? You didn't even have your shirt off and already he was unraveling you with his fingers. 

There was too much fabric between you two. Marcus hadn't even taken off his leather jacket yet. You reached up to his shoulders, ready to slide it off for him when suddenly he pulled away and grabbed your hands. You looked up at him confused, wondering if maybe he wasn't ready for this yet. 

"What's wrong?" you asked.

Marcus was breathing heavy, eyes dark with lust. "You wanted someone mature, right? You want mature sex?"

The force behind his words sent your insides tumbling. All you could do was nod, hands still unable to move, imprisoned by his own. 

"Okay," he said, his voice deep and husky. "Stop me if you're uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Again, you nodded. 

"You're allowed to speak," Marcus teased. "But you need to do as I say."

Oh, fuck. A heat was building between your thighs. What had you gotten yourself into? Slowly, Marcus released your hands from his grip. He took his leather jacket off, himself, and then took a step back, instructing you through your next movements.

"Take off your shirt," Marcus said. His words were soft yet commanding.

Marcus watched as you pulled your shirt over your head. Your bra, which was already undone, went along with it. The air of your apartment wasn't particularly cold, but the shock of sudden exposure left goosebumps on your burning hot skin. You felt your nipples harden under his intense gaze but he didn't reach out to touch you.

"Turn around and take off your pants. Slowly."

He was enjoying himself too much. How had this sweet man, who had treated you so kindly and simply craved the presence of another human, turned so hot and rugged, wanting to tease you with the pain of slowing down. He knew you wanted nothing more than to touch him. And yet he made you wait and watched as you squirmed under his command.

And however painful it was, you did as you were told, unbuttoning your pants, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, and pulling them down slowly, slowly, slowly. You weren't sure if it was what he wanted, but you dragged your underwear down with them, fully revealing the curve of your hips and the contour of your ass. You leaned forward to push your pants down your thighs and past your knees, giving Marcus a full view of your now wet and throbbing pussy, and you heard the audible intake of a breath behind you. 

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he said. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart somehow beat faster than it already was. But it was nice to know you were having as much of an effect on him as he was on you.

Now fully naked, you stood, still turned away from him, unsure of what his next move might be. Without your attention on him, you finally noticed how dark it was in your apartment. You hadn't even turned on any lights, hadn't even moved out of the entryway. The only light came from the open curtains of your living room window where a street lamp cast an orange glow across the couch.

Suddenly, the sound of a slap and a sharp sting spread across the left cheek of your ass and you gasped. Did he just slap you on the butt? Holy shit. The warm tingle spread through your body and you nearly trembled at the feeling. Hold it together. You couldn't fall apart so soon. 

Despite the slap, Marcus still held back from touching you, leaving you feeling exposed, nearly whimpering from the desire to be touched. Finally, he placed his hands on your shoulders and slid them down to your wrists, leaving fire in their wake. With one wrist in each hand, he folded your arms behind your back and held them there. The movement forced you to arch your back, thrusting your chest and hips out. It seemed a calculated move to provide him with more access to every curve of your body.

You could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer, but it wasn't until he pressed his own body against your back that you noticed he was naked as well. With his free hand, he pulled your hair behind your ear to place hot, breathy kisses down your neck. Shivers ran down your spine and your legs trembled in desire. Your pussy was dripping with need, the moist heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thigh.

With all his teasing, a sudden thought popped into your head. You had to ask. He had said you could speak, right?

"Marcus?" You asked. He grunted in response, not moving his mouth from your neck but affirming that he was listening. It was getting hard to talk, but you continued anyway. "Do you- do you have super senses as well? Like hearing?"

"Baby, I can hear you breathe from a mile away."

Interesting. "So, what if I do this?" You turned your head toward his, still at your neck, placing your lips at his ear, and moaned softly. The hand gripping your arms tightened and a deep groan was thrust from Marcus's lips, sending his hot breath across your shoulder.

"You're teasing me now? Don't worry, for that little stunt I'll have you screaming so loud you won't need super senses to hear you from a mile away." Now it was your turn to groan in frustration. You strained against your captive arms, wanting to get at the man pressed behind you, but he was far too strong. At least he was finally touching you. His free hand slid across your stomach and up to your breasts, pinching and twisting each of your nipples until they were aching and tender. The moans he elicited from your mouth were no longer simply to tease; the pleasure was too much to contain. Suddenly, his fingers left your nipples and slid slowly south. You shook with anticipation as he crept towards the heat between your thighs. Gently, one finger teased the crease of your slit, working gradually toward the mound of your clit. 

"Spread your legs," Marcus whispered into your ear. As soon as you did what you were told, his finger landed directly on your clit and you nearly jumped at the sensation. You wanted desperately to grab onto him, hold his hand in place, but you could do nothing more than moan in ecstasy as he worked lazily between your thighs. You were sure you could cum soon if he kept going, except he didn't. Marcus stopped, pulling his hand away, leaving you trembling and begging for more.

With a palm placed on the small of your back, he guided you forward, and you stumbled until you reached the couch. You thought he might sit you down, but instead, Marcus leaned you across the couch arm, face in the cushions, ass in the air. You still had no control over your arms, so you could do little about your situation. 

"You want me to fuck you, baby?" You could feel Marcus pressed against your ass, his legs between yours, spreading them wider, his cock hard and ready. He was so close, so close to being inside you, and yet he wanted to tease you a bit longer. When your reply came only as a soft whimper from your lips, he leaned over you and ran a finger down your spine. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes, Marcus. Yes, fuck me please."

"Not yet."

Not yet? What did he mean not yet? You wanted to cry at how desperately you needed him inside you. Instead of giving you what you wanted, you suddenly felt his hot tongue dragging up your thigh. He moaned against your trembling skin, licking away the dripping heat that had spilled from your pussy. Slowly, he made his way to your core, taking his time to clean the inside of both of your thighs. 

"Baby, you taste so good. You're such a good girl, all nice and wet for me." Good girl. Fuck. It felt so incredibly amazing, but it wasn't what you wanted, what you needed. You couldn't help yourself; you began to beg, beg for him to fuck you like he meant it, beg for him to bury himself inside you. He ignored your pleas and instead spread your pussy lips with his tongue, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst, holding your arms in place as you squirmed beneath him.

"That's it, baby girl, grind against my face." You didn't need to be told twice. The sensation was bringing you to the edge. The scruff on his face tickled against your thighs and you wanted desperately to clamp your legs down on his head, tip over the edge, and feel the release of your orgasm. But Marcus wouldn't let you. He held your legs open and continued his rampage as your gasps of pleasure escalated to moans. 

"Marcus I- I'm gonna cum," you managed to say. But as soon as your words left your lips, you regretted them. Marcus pulled away, leaving your open and cold and teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You groaned in frustration again. "Please, Marcus, make me cum, I need to cum."

"I love hearing you beg," he said, placing kisses across your shoulder blades and down your back. You could feel him center his hips at your entrance, the tip of his cock just barely nudging into you. You tried to grind your hips against his, needing that sweet relief, but he held you in place with one hand. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He pulled back and then slammed into you, and you did. You screamed his name over and over, with every thrust, every time he hit your g-spot, every time he grunted and groaned with his own pleasure. You tried to press your face into the couch to mute the sound but he wouldn't let you, grabbing your hair in his free hand and pulling your head slightly back, so he could hear every delicious sound that fell from your lips. Your arms were still pinned behind your back, but it made the angle all the better. It wasn't long before his thrusts were pulling you back toward the edge, your walls clenching around his shaft. He felt the shift, felt your orgasm build in your core as he fucked you hard.

"Cum for me baby," he growled. "Be a good girl and cum, now." With his words and one final thrust, you did, shattering into a million pieces with the force of the orgasm that rocked your body. You screamed until your lungs gave out, until you could barely breathe. Though you hadn't been holding yourself up much, you fully collapsed now, the strength in your body gone. Marcus was still holding out, teetering on the edge as well but wanting to ride out every drop of your orgasm until nothing remained. 

"Tell me where you want me to cum," he growled through his teeth, unable to hold on much longer. 

You wanted him to cum inside you; you wanted to feel him drip out of you all night. So you told him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Marcus, cum inside me, please," you begged. He did love when you begged, after all.

He cursed your name and then came inside you, thrusting his hot seed deep in your cunt and filling you up. He collapsed on top of you, finally releasing your arms, needing both of his to hold himself above you. His throbbing cock remained inside you as he leaned over you and kissed your back, whispering your name in sweet euphoria. The two of you remained like that, warm bodies piled atop one another, for several minutes, heaving in and out to catch your breath.

Finally, he pulled out and stood, helping you up as well so you could sit on the arm of the couch he'd just fucked you over. 

You realized that this was the first time you were actually seeing Marcus naked. He had taken you from behind the whole time, but now, you were finally able to place your hands on his smooth chest and wrap your legs around his waist. You pulled him into a kiss and then leaned back, falling backward onto the couch and taking him down with you. In this position, Marcus laid his head on your chest, easing deep into your arms as you stayed wrapped around him. It was a perfect feeling, fulfilling the skin-to-skin contact you knew you both desperately needed. For a moment, you were both quiet, listening to the steady rhythm of one another's breath. Marcus was the first to break the silence.

"So, was your hypothesis correct?"

You laughed. "So far, the evidence is compelling. I may need to conduct some more testing to know for sure, though."

"I think we can arrange that," he said with a smile.


End file.
